Internal Affairs
by ThaerSturing
Summary: Its Evaluation Day again and Grissom is provoking Sara with a tough case, which is made tougher by when the Fed's jump in to defend one of their own from the scruitiny of the Geeks. Final chapter up!
1. Quote wars

"Hey, where you headed?"

Catherine squinted against the hot sunset outside the crime lab.

"Hit and run in the 'berbs, three year old vic."

"Ouch. You taking anyone with you?" Sara asked neutrally.

"Yeah, Warrick; Its evaluation day again. We almost didn't miss you." Catherine replied, Sara grimaced.

"My favorite day of the year. Its right up there with back to school, and mother's day. The road in was hell, camera crews, EMTs and police. I almost stuck around." Sara said flippantly. She'd noticed Catherine's frown at the mother's day comment.

"Figure you're gonna head back out there?"

"If she'd answer her page, she would have stayed." Grissom interrupted. Catherine took it as a cue and waved as she jogged off to her Tahoe.

Sara stared up at Grissom, who stood three steps above her, looking somber.

"Your beeper's not working Sara."

"My beeper's in my bag, I didn't hear it. So what's going on?"

"Rape/Homicide three blocks from your place. You could have saved yourself the trouble of coming all the way out here."

"I still would have had to swipe in and get my gear."

Gris held up her tool box.

"Consider yourself swiped."

"Thanks." Sara replied, chagrinned.

Pulling up to the scene, Sara's stomach tightened slightly when she recognized the street signs and the apartment building. Walking down the hall, the feeling tightened, and when they entered the scene, she swore under her breath.

"Pardon?"

"Sorry its just – this place has the same layout as mine." She said softly.

"Not unusual, high density living, built within the same complex, city planners often only use five to ten blue prints and just mix them up."

"Cookie cutter living." Sara took her sunglasses off and walked passed the street-cop positioned at the tape.

"Hey Carl."

Grissom was watching her. She could feel it. For a moment his eyes weren't on the obvious signs of struggle, and his mind wasn't on the smell of hot copper. Sara thought of every other abuse case she had been on, statistically, she and Grissom seemed to be working those cases together.

What she didn't know, was whether it was because he wanted her insight, or if he wanted to keep an eye on her. Today though, she knew he was testing her.

Walking in the door, Sara immediately put Grissom out of her mind and started registering everything around her. Immediately to the right, the floor to ceiling glass was shattered, and the pool of blood coming from the kitchen around the left corner left little question as to where the body was.

Grissom checked the door behind her.

"No sign of forced entry."

"Who lets a rapist in?"

"Everybody does, when its someone you know."

The victim was on the kitchen floor, lacerations covering her head and hands, and a large triangle of glass sticking out of her chest.

Sara moved back up the bare hallway. A dull smudge on the floor caught her eye and she moved for her kit.

"Grissom?"

"Yes?"

"I got a large shoeprint, heading towards the back. Other than the set of them, the hall's clean. There's no sign of struggle." The gears in her head were already beginning to spin.

Grissom leaned over the partition.

"Go check the bedroom, it's on the-"

"Left, yeah, I got it."

I nside the bedroom, Sara turned the lights off and broke out the chemicals. Besides the ransacked room and the disheveled bed, Sara found semen and a torn shirt, hidden under the bed sheets.

"The rape happened here, but the murder out there." Sara pondered and then went back into the hall.

She covered the floor in luminol but nothing showed up. The hall was void of any evidence, other than the shoe prints.Her killer had cleaned up.

People where shouting in the kitchen and she temporarily forgot the missing link.

"-As I was saying, sir, you need to step out. This officer will escort you back outside." Grissom's authoritative voice commanded.

"I'm a special agent, this is my apartment, that's my wife!" The man shouted back. He took a deep breath in and seemed to calm down. "Alright I understand. I just... I don't know what else to do but bethe officer."

"You'll have to let us take care of that." Carl piped in. Gently, he sheparded the man out.

"Husband?" Sara confirmed.

"One Agent Chris Carpenter. Federal Bureau of Investigations, narcotics unit, Las Vegas field office."

"Delightful. I love working with the Feds." Sara muttered.

"Just think, you almost left me for him." Grissom quipped back with a toss of his head in the agent's direction. Sara did not reply but glared at him and fought the corner's of her lips as they threatened to turn up.

"How much do you want to bet hisDNA is the onlysample we recover from the sheets?"

"Its a bit early for that, and I don't make a habit about making wagers of my cases, but I'd say the odds are highly probable." Grissom photographed the last few shots of the body before the technicians rolled her into the black bag and hoisted her onto a guerney. Sara watched her body leave.

"Thats the last time she'll ever pass through her home." She mused.

"This sin't her home anymore. It stopped being a home the minute she let her murderer in."

"You're right. It's my crime scene." Sara replied sharply. Grissom noted the resolve in her voice and the tension forming along her spine and across her shoulders. Sara carried herself differently lately. It was the way she moved. It had changed over the years, and as he sat on his heels andstudied her, he could see that she was in a constant state of tension, like she was bracing herself against some invisible oncomming train. Her head turned and she caught him staring at her. He didn't look away.

"That's right, its evaluation day. I better behave."

Grissom waited a beat while the officer close to them wandered out of ear shot.

"That's not what caught my attention, Sara." His voice had changed, but his gaze had gone back to the blood pool at his feet and the ghost of a handprint. He took another photo.

"What did?"

"The beautiful remains so in ugly surroundings." She froze. Her eyes stared out ahead. She was thinking.

"Keubler-Ross?" She guessed. It was a shot in the dark.

"No, Chazal." He corrected.

"The artist? Well, Thoreau said 'You cannot perceive beauty but with a serene mind.'" She countered.

Grissom was silent. When he spoke his back was to her and his voice was low.

"I guess I have found peace."

"There is no peace like the peace we make with death." Sara replied. Her voice was soft. She knew very well that she was treading in deep water, yet her words leaped out of her mouth on their own voilition.

"Keubler-Ross?" Grissom queried. It was probably just a trivia game to him, she thought.

"No. Sidle." She replied. His head whipped around and she was rewarded with the look of surprise that grissom wore only for really special occasions. She couldn't stand it any longer and grabbed her tool kit.

"I'll be processing if you need me."

With that Sara stalked off in the direction of the bedroom and left Grissom with his ugly surroundings.


	2. Static

"Why didn't you tell us earlier that your wife is also an agent?" Brass inquired. His voice was detached, and his demeanor was aloof. Sara was watching him from her vantage-point behind him. He behaved as though he was distracted, as though he didn't really care about every single word that left Carpenter's mouth. If Sara hadn't known any better, she'd say his mind was elsewhere but she knew it wasn't. Brass was wearing his poker face.

"Last time you saw me I was in shock. I apologize…" he said through clenched teeth, "if I left out some details or neglected to follow routine procedures."

"That's fine." Brass relied flippantly. "Could you go over your statement with me? From the beginning?"

"Helen left work early. We agreed to meet back at the house, she got there before I did. When I got home…" He stopped and switched the direction of his comment. "I stopped to buy dinner. I wish I hadn't."

Brass studied him for a few quiet seconds.

"There was evidence of rape at your apartment and on your wife's body.Should we be suprised when we findyour DNA when we process your wife's body?"

Agent Carpenter gave a cynical laugh.

"We had consensual sex this morning, before we left for work, and then she surprised me in my office around twelve and we made love again. You will find an excess of my DNA." Sara watched the profile of the man's face and noted with surprise as a tear traced its way across his angular features.

"Was there a big case your wife was working?Was there anybody in particular who would want her dead?"

"This…. What happened to Helen… I don't think that it was random. She has a dangerous job, she's aggressive; she's headstrong. Helen's made a lot of enemies."

"Did she intimidate you, Agent Carpenter?" Sara asked. From the other side of the one-way glass, Grissom turned his attention to her. Her voice was gravelly and dark. He was able to read far enough into her tone to know that she had long ago pegged Agent Carpenter as her guy.

"No, I was not intimidated by my wife!" He snapped back.

"Did she make you feel inadequate? Big guy like you, I bet you're used to women backing down. Helen stood up to you, didn't she? she stood her ground and let you know when you were off base. Did she nag you the wrong way? Catch you on a bad day?" Sara pushed further. Brass remained quiet and watched.

"I liked Helen because she had moxie. She was a rough, physical and temperamental person, and I knew she could take care of herself. I admired my wife, Ms. Sidle, so you can quit it with the male-inadequacies. I work the narc. unit. I carry a gun, and it's a big one. I don't have any inadequacy issues."

Sara staredCarpenter down from her side of the room. Grissom noticed how far she was keeping herself from the table. She couldn't see him, but Grissom was sure she knew he was there. She avoided the glass window and kept her gaze on the suspect.

"Look, you have no reason to hold me, My meeting in Cancun's very important. It's official state business. It's taken months to plan this seminar; I am afraid I can't stay behind. If you need me, you can contact me through my department."

"That's convienient." Sara heard herself say. "Play the badge card, you think you can just run off? Where then, Barbados? Or are you a Brazilian kind of man?"

"Sara." Grissom warned, walking into the room

"Gris-" she began but clamped her jaw shut. She followed him out when he motioned for her to join him.

Her suspect and Brass sat quietly and waited until they left. Sara could hear their voices through the microphone of the observation room. She immediately paced over to the far wall and turned on Grissom, throwing her back against the wall and crossing her arms tightly. Grissom had her cornered, and she was full of momentum.

"Look, we're all on the same side here." Agent Carpenter began from the other side of the glass. For a moment, Sara and Grissom were quiet as they both watched the Federal Agent pick up his things and straighten his tie.

"I trust you and your people to find who killed Helen. I have faith in your abilities, but I can't stay here. I have responsibilities and people depending on me."

"He's a potential suspect in a fresh case!"Sara commented outloud. She kept her gaze on the glass."He can't just leave the country, I don't care who he works for!" Sara challenged, laughing in disbelief at the absurdity of the issue. She caught Grissom's glare from where he stood in the middle of the smoky blue room. His whole body was awash in shadows, except a pinprick glare off his glasses.

"I'm going to say this once, and only once." Grissom's tone was neutral despite his authoritative words. His body language told Sara more than his voice did. She saw the way he stood; defensively, with his feet apart and his arms crossed.

"Keep your head in the game or I'll pull you."

"I can do this."

"I know you can, now prove it too me." He challenged.

Sara pushed herself off the back wall with the heel of her foot and came within abreath's distanceof Grissom's face. In truth, it was closer than she had intended but she was not about to back up. Grissom maintained his cool though and gave no more of a reaction than a tilt of his head. She could see the expression on his face now, where before she only had the silhouette from the interrogation room. Over his shoulder, Sara could see that Brass had left as well.

"Why are you provoking me?" Sara was calm and collected now. The light flickered in her eyes and her lips looked black in the dim light, the heat from her body was seeping across the distance between them, like it was seeking him out. He could read her like a book, and despite her neutral tone, Grissom could still see the bitterness and the anger simmering in her. Her breath was light and quick, and everything about her juxtaposed her cool demeanor. His own shadow eclipsed her face and partially obscured her in the darkness of the room. He questioned his own wisdom in pushing her so hard, especially knowing what he knew about her. He pushed her relentlessly, and he knew it.

"What happened to the peace you spoke so highly of?" He said instead ignoring her question.

"May I leave? There's an autopsy that won't wait long for me." She replied, ignoring his. She was already stepping towards the door but Grissom reached out deftly and his fingers brushed against the back of her arm. She stopped as suddenly as if he had grabbed her and pulled her backed and she stumbled despite the lightness of his tough. There was static between them and the air cracked as his index finger grazed her skin. She looked at him in blatant shock.

"I'm coming with you." He said meekly.

She only nodded mutely and held the door open for him. Her hand shook as she did.


	3. Jursidicktion

Whatever cool composure Sara had hoped to catch between the interrogation room and the autopsy was out of the question when she had Grissom haunting her every step. She threw him a dark look over her shoulder, and thought about buying a pack of smokes on her way home.

"_We both know that's not your problem, Sara."_ He chastised her even in her own head. Nevertheless, the urge to take a long drag off a Marlboro passed.

At the doors Grissom paused at watched Sara questioningly as she continued to stride further down the hall.

"Sara?"

"Grissom, I'm scrubbing in. David's got the night off, his rehearsal diner's tomorrow."

"Sara?" he asked again, accusingly.

"There's no reason not to; I am perfectly capable and I've already discussed it with Doc. I'll meet you on the other side.

Grissom waited impatiently as the blue-clad Sara and Robbins wheeled the gurney withthe bruised corpse of a young woman towards the autopsy table and then began.

Grissom was watching her again, and Sara's nerves rattled under such scrutiny. She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. She peeled her focus off of Grissom and devoted it to Helen, lying patiently on Doc's table.

"Cursory glance reveals an obvious point of trauma in the left upper torso. Piece of glass, approximately five inches in diameter penetrating the left pectoral muscle and likely perforating the lung. We'll find out more when we dig a little deeper."

"Hey, Doc? I got some postmortem bruising, and I don't think its lividity." Sara said, gesturing to the back of the victim's left arm.

"What is that?" She said curiously. Her eyebrows furled together and a frown crumpled across her lips. As she held out the arm for Grissom to photograph, she reached her free hand out and wrapped in around Helen Carpenter's forearm. Her thumb matched the blotchy, near black bruise, but Sara was unable to extend her fingers far enough around the biceps to connect the other four dots.

"A hand." Grissom pronounced. "A big one."

"You know what they say about big hands…" Sara deadpanned. Grissom wrapped his own hand around and successfully spanned the handprint.

"This is a big guy we're looking for." Sara smirked despite herself. "Chris Carpenter clears 6'6 easily."

"Any male neighbors?"

"There are no tenants next door, and across the hall is a little eighty year old man. Grissom, he's good for this."

"What about co-workers?"

"Yeah, Agent Chris Carpenter!" Sara repeated hotly.

"The SAE kit was already performed. The results are on the way to Mia, but there was definite activity in the region, heavy bruising, and some obvious signs of tearing." Doc interrupted from his vantage point further down the body. Sara busied herself with the head trauma at the crown of the victims head.

"Her husband admitted to having sex twice that day. Other than distasteful, sex at the office isn't anything we can arrest him for. We need something concrete." Grissom narrated.

Sara studied him for a moment, caught off guard by his comments and then drew herself back to the lacerations on the top of Helen Carpenter's head.

"How does she get a head wound like this?" She gestured.

"Her attacker could have smashed something over her head." Grissom offered, then took another photograph.

The autopsy progressed smoothly with Sara and Doc Robbins working in tandem and Grissom observing from the sides.

Robbins was poised with the bone saw and ready to begin the internal when the doors to the morgue were thrown open and four agents in suits stormed in.

"What the hell is this?" Sara shouted. She moved herself between the autopsy and the invading Federal Agents.

"This is my morgue, gentlemen, I'm going to ask you to step outside." Robbins defended.

"Doctor Albert Robbins? My name Is Special Agent Clark, thisare Agents Ribbon, Maxwell and Kwe. We're with the Department of Internal Investigations, and we're comandeering this body, your notes, any tests you've conducted already-"

"Like hell you are, this is our case!" Sara shot back, stepping towards the agent standing before her. He simply stared down at her before Grissom grabbed her at pulled her out of the way. Sara was barely aware of Doc contesting the warrant with the agents and Grissom pointed to the exit.

"Sara, outside now!"

Sara stopped short, her mouth open. She stared furiously between Doc, Grissom and the special agents, infuriated and embarrassed beyond description. She was suddenly aware that she was the only living female in the room.

Without another word, Sara turned on her heels and stalked out of the morgue. Grissom had the nerve to make her wait while he finished questioning Robbins. Durring that time she called Mia on her cell and urgently ordered her to make copies of any results she already had and to prepare the DNA for transit.

She stepped quickly out of the way of the swinging door as Grissom ripped off his scrubs. His ears were red and she could tell he was furious.

"I've already got ahold of Mia, she's making duplicates of what we already have and I'll call Archie to copy the crime scene photos, we can at least work-"

"You're off. Period." Grissom ordered, tension ripping at his voice."Greg and I'll follow up on what we can and you can get as far away from this as humanly possible!"

"Grissom!" Sara threw her hands up in the air.

"This is an open and shut case! He knows it. That's why he's playing cat and mouse with us. He's buying time!"

"Go home."

"Grissom!" She shot back.

"This in't your case anymore."

"They aren't going to find Jack shit in the next five hours; the have to start a brand new investigation! We have to prove beyond reasonable doubt or else he flies in-"

"Sara "we" don't have to do anything."

"This is unfair!"

"Tell that to Mrs. Carpenter!"

Sara had nothing to reply, and instead shook her head in defeat.

"Fine. Whatever Grissom. Just promise me you'll get that court order."

"Leave, Sara."

Sara turned and stormed off. He turned and strode back into the autopsy theatre.


	4. Shadows of the lab

Getting back from the morgue, Grissom met Greg outside of the AV lab. Sara had her head down as she stalked through the hallways but heard Grissom's voice coming quickly around the corner, and ducked behind a computer monitor. She held still and listened to the conversation as best she could.

"…Archie and I got the copies made of what we had, but I have a question about the protocol here, Boss." Greg sounded rhetorical.

"Go on…" Grissom encouraged.

"Since the Feds are handling the investigation, is it even okay that we still have this information? I mean even if it is just copies? And who's paying for all this? DNA tests run up some pretty handsome figures."

"Greg, cut to it, you and I both know that technically we shouldn't be having this conversation."

"Sara called in a favour with some friendly Federal Agents of hers. Apparently she knows a guy, who knows a guy who told us that if we could make due with the information we've already gathered then we would be well within our rights as a lab to continue processing it. They will not hinder our investigation. We just can't gather any further evidence, nor do we have the authority to arrest or detain suspects without first contacting the Federal Agents handling the case. Basically, we're investigating this to satisfy our own personal curiosity."

Grissom was silent. He had intended on requesting a court order, which would have taken a while, and may not have even come through. He frowned though.

"Sara?" He confirmed.

"Yeah she called me on her way back." Greg said secretively. Sara inched further into the shadows, hating the position she was putting Greg into and feeling very much like an eavesdropper. _Does it count when its Greg? No._ She reasoned._ But it does when its Grissom…_Sara silently made her way to the door and reached out for the handle.

"Technically Greg; we don't need to. Between you and me, I'm doing this as a favour." Grissom commented. Sara froze and she could see the back of Grissom through the crack in the door and Greg's curious expression over his shoulder. She took a step back and remained silent. Neither had actually seen her yet; Sara saw no reason to expose herself now.

Greg moved quickly back onto the subject of the case.

"I was looking over the transcripts of the interrogation. Carpenter said that he walked in, took off his shoes and went to hang his jacket up when he noticed the broken glass."

"Go on."

"Well, I found glass in the bottom of the shoes, which by the way were untied, not just kicked off."

"He may have stepped in the glass and not realized it." Grissom reasoned. He could already see where Greg was taking this and smiled approvingly.

"What's he doing taking his shoes off, after stepping in glass?" Greg posited. "I'm not routinely careless with my crystal, but accidents do happen, on an occasion. I break a glass and the first thing I do is put my shoes on."

"Did we loose the shoes?"

"Tragically, yes, however thanks to Sara's lightening quick reflexes, I was able to make a cast of the shoe soles prior to the arrival of the men in black. We also have a sample of the glass from the front hall mirror and photocopies of the footprints from the hallway that Sara pulled. What you get?"

"Autopsy notes, photographs, and a whole lot of unanswered questions." Grissom muttered.

Greg lowered his voice.

"She's uh, still here you know."

Grissom was silent.

"The body?"

"No…Sara."

"I sent her home." Grissom announced.

"Yeah, I know."

Sara couldn't stand it any longer and stepped into the light of the doorway before anything got said that she didn't want to hear.

"I got some information from Agent Beckman at the Secret Service office. He knows a guy in Internal Investigations and agreed to ask around. Turns out, Helen was working surveillance on a case that Chris had been working for a few months, following leads, talking to players. Maybe she saw something she wasn't supposed to."

Grissom looked sternly at her.

"We could have gotten that. I asked you to go home."

"Technically you told me to leave, and no, I don't think you could have because I had to pull some strings." She challenged.

"Greg?" Grissom hinted.

"I'm gonna go get me some java." He declared.

"Sara, you shift ends in five minutes, I want you out of here in exactly 300 seconds."

"Fine, I can deal with that."

Grissom walked off in the direction of his office and Greg reappeared behind Sara.

"You know Sara," Greg's attempt at a seductive voice drawled out.

"I would never order you around like that."

Sara turned and looked Greg in the eyes.

"I'd never let you." She patted him indulgently on the cheek and left him standing in the hall. Out of the corner of her eye, Sara saw Grissom staring at her through the glass window. Resisting the urge to turn around Sara quickened her pace towards the exit.


	5. Velocity Experiment

**Author's note:** soooo sorry for the overdue post; I've had craziness ensuing around here. On the plus side, I raised $550.00 for a fundraiser! yeay!

Thanks again for all the helpful reviews, I do apreciate everything anyone has to say.

Okay on with the chapter. Oh, on emore thing...if it feels cut off at the bottom, its cause i divided this scene into two. I hate long chapters.

Shutting her front door behind her, Sara was overwhelmed with a feeling of déjà vu. Beside her kitchen cupboards, Sara saw the body, and the broken mirror behind the door. Her own walls were purple, and the Carpenter's had chosen a blue. She had a coat rack behind her door. The Carpenter's had a full-length mirror. She shook it off and made sure her own door was locked before changing into her sweats and her Harvard tee shirt. Plunking down in front of the computer, she tried not to look at the clock.

It wasn't until five AM, that she heard the knock at her door. Solid and precise, exactly three knocks.

She quickly tossed the coffee down the drain and threw an afghan around her pj'ed shoulders.

She opened her door and found Grissom standing in the hall.

"I need your house."

"You mean my help?" she shot back.

"The two aren't mutually exclusive of one another."

Sara thought about slamming the door on him right then and there, but the thought of Helen Carpenter made her hesitate. Grissom stepped in gingerly when she didn't object.

"I didn't wake you did I?"

"No" she admitted.

"Why not? It'salmost fiveAM?"

"Why are you here Grissom?" She demanded quietly absently glancing at her own clock on the wall.

"Officially, I am pursuing this investigation out of my own curiosity, the Federal Bureau has extended me the professional courtesy. The Internal Affairs office is handling the case of one of their top narcotics agents. One I might add who has an impeccable background."

"Chris Carpenter?"

"Well, I was referring to the death of Agent Helen Carpenter. There aren't any signs of the investigation pursuing her husband." He sounded apologetic, and it was not lost on Sara.

"It's an indictable offense, it's not like he ran over his wife's cat. They can't just ignore him as a potential suspect." Sara shook her head in disbelief.

"Sara, pedantic banter aside, we aren't in charge of this investigation anymore. We have a few hours to find compelling evidence."

"Then what?"

"Without it, he leaves for Cancun, while the IA Dept. reviews our field notes, and any headway we had made on the case."

"He's a murderer, he's not an idiot. Agent Carpenter's not just going to fly back into the waiting arms of the FBI. He leaves that airport in four hours, and he's gone. Do not ask me to just let him go like that." Sara was getting impassioned again, and she choked on her words as they spilled from her lips. Grissom caught her eye and looked at her with patient empathy. His attention caught hers and her look changed to resolve.

"What are we supposed to do? What can we do? Besides sit here and gripe about how badly Helen got the short end of the system?"

"Not much. We're pretty limited."

"You drove all they way over here to tell me that?"

"I said we're pretty limited, we are not, however totally without resources. Think outside the box."

"We don't have the jurisdiction or the authority to detain him…" Sara trailed off.

"But?" Grissom prompted, as Sara thought. He came in and dropped his briefcase beside the counter and hung his coat up.

"But… We can still conduct an investigation independently with the data we already have. If we can come up with reasonable doubt, we can at least persuade the department to detain him, pending their own investigation."

"Exactly. We know he's lying, we just need to prove it."

"Concentrate on what cannot lie, or something like that eh?"

"Something like that."

They were quiet for a moment, the day's events seeping from the silence.

Sara cleared her throat.

"I um, I was thinking about it, and there are two different crime scenes: She was obviously assaulted in the bedroom. Now, he says it was consentually rough, and we don't have the results of the SAE kit, or the clock exam so there's no way to know if she resisted or participated."

"We can't focus on the assault. You gotta let it go."

Sara glared at him briefly and realized he was right, again, and shifted her focus away from the bedroom and towards the entryway where the glass was broken.

"I originally thought the glass mirror broke when the door was thrown open, the handle shattering the glass, but Greg put the pieces back together and the fracture point was further in than the door handle and it was above it, at head height." Grissom narrated

"How did she get from the front hall to the kitchen? Without leaving an evidence trail?"

"One thing at a time. Was she chasing after him or was he casing after her down the-"

"Where are the footprints?"

"One thing at a time!" Grissom's voice rose a bit but he shut up quickly when she scowled at him. He remembered he was in her house on her own time. Casting her a meek expression, he gestured to the coat rack hanging on the wall.

"Does that come off?"

"Yes. Why?" She asked cautiously.

"I'd liketo do a velocity experiment. I don't want you to hit your head though."

Guardedly, she stepped up and took the coat rack off of its brackets.

"Better?"

"Infinitely. Now imagine the plate glass. I don't think he slammed her head against the mirror. I think it was an accident. I'll stand here on your left, and you run past me."  
"You're going to grab me, aren't you?" Sara asked, catching on to the concept.

"We never got a chance to pursue the handprint on her left arm. I think this is where it fits in."

Sara let out a sigh of consent and stepped back a few passes.

"Okay. I'm Helen Carpenter. I've just had a fight with my husband, things got rough, I'm running for the door."

Sara broke into a jog towards the door; bracing for what she knew was coming. Grissom reached out and grabbed her upper arm and tugged firmly in the opposite direction she was running. Sure enough, Sara pivoted on the floor and smacked into the wall.

"Sorry." He apologized, rubbing her arm where five red marks were appearing.

"Don't be, that was awesome." Sara paused appreciatively. "I love physics!" She flashed a grin at him and stepped back from the wall.

"So she smashed her forehead against the mirror."

"Knocking her out."

"Did he panic? What motivated him to stab her?" He mused

"Weapon of opportunity?" She interjected.

"I don't know that it matters at this point."

"So what did he do between the time she died and the time he called 911?" She asked.

"He picked up an alibi."

"Takeout diner. That's right."

"_Now_ we need to figure out how she got from the front hall to the kitchen."

"Something's been bothering me." Sara mused. "There's nothing in the hallway. No blood, no glass, its an evidence vacuum. Other than the footprints."

Grissom was silent for a while. He stared down Sara's hallway and envisioned the scene unfolding. Sara's taste in furniture was infinitely better, but it was a decent enough reconstruction. He was focused on the floor.

"Sara, did you know that these apartments have a specially designed floor? There's a layer of sponge under the hardwood that softens the impact and helps soundproof between floors."

"Huh."

"I have with me, the photographs you took of the hallway. Note how distinguished and pronounced the impressions are?"

"It's five AM, Grissom cut to it."

"A man is walking along the beach with God and at his death looks back in the sand. He sees that at the hardest moments of his life, there is only one set of footprints. When he asked God about this, God replied:"

"I carried you." Sara finished, looking down the hall. "How can we prove it?"

"This is why I needed your help."

Sara grinned smugly. He continued.

"The floors at the lab are concrete, and I cannot easily compare the shoe impressions, but I believe that the prints are so clear because he was carrying her body. In order to prove it, I need to make a comparison on a similar floor."

Grissom strode slowly down her hallway and stopped at the end. Sara made a mental note that her bedroom door was open, and her bed wasn't made.

"Okay you can come back now." She commanded uncomfortably.

She was busy lifting the latent footprints using the kit Grissom had left by the door. She didn't hear him enter the living room; only when he reappeared by her side did she look up. She stood expectantly when she saw the look on his face.

"You're looking into foster care?" He said incredulously.

"That's my business Grissom." She warned.

"You left your monitor on. Evidence in plain site." He admonished in return.

She was silently briefly while she thought. She was planning on telling him. Sooner or later.

"Yes. I am. The thought crossed my mind a few months ago and I've been pursuing it since."

"How?" He sounded like there was more in the question but he just trailed off.

"Not now, Grissom, please."

He looked at her softly and for a moment, Sara thought he was going to push the issue further. Instead he reached out a hand and took the prints she had lifted. Fleetingly, his thumb grazed the top of her right hand, and Sara looked at him in confusion, but said nothing. She relinquished the prints to her superior.

"These aren't defined enough." Grissom said.

"Do you want me to do it again, because-"

"No, this is a good thing. These match the impressions Greg and I did at the lab, meaning that the flooring has nothing to do with defining the clarity of the tread."

"Now what? I don't exactly have a 130 lb. weight lying around." She stopped and laughed. "I don't think you can lift my loveseat."

Grissom opened his arms out.

"Would you mind?"

Sara hesitated.

"You can't lift me, Grissom."

"Have a little faith. I have a theory."

"…And I have an invested interest in not letting you pick me up." Sara shot back before she thought twice about it. _Stuff like that sounds so much better inmy head._

He waved his hands slightly and encouraged her once more. Sara let out a deep breath and moved awkwardly into his open arms.

His grip under her knees slipped and her left leg fell from his outstretched grip. Instinctively, she wrapped it around his waist. He tensed briefly, and she held her breath, the silence of the dead of night screaming volumes before he dropped her unceremoniously.

"That didn't work." Grissom said diplomatically. Sara smiled meekly.

"Try again." Sara commanded, resolute. He had already picked her up once, they might as well get something useful out of her humility. _The things I do for science…_


	6. Tea and World History

Grissom took a few steps slowly and set her down, not bothering to go the full length of the hall. Sara got right to work lifting the prints while he stared expectantly over her shoulder. She cast him one look over her shoulder and he backed up.

"Go make some tea. There's lemon zinger in the cupboard if you'd like something to drink."

"I'm fine. If you want something I can-"

Sara let out an epithet of frustration.

"Grissom, even these aren't defined enough. The treads are heavier, but still not heavy enough to match the treads from the Carpenter's hallway. There's still something missing." Sara swiveled on her heels from her crouched position and stared down her floor. "I don't get it. Helen Carpenter wasn't that heavy. The most she could have weighed was 140, tops."

"Come here." Grissom commanded, handing her a mug. "We need to step back for minute."

Accepting the mug graciously, she stood and followed him into the kitchen. As he sat himself down on one of her stools and inhaled the steam from the lemon tea, it struck Sara for the first time that evening how surreal this entire situation was. Resigning herself to it, she took the stool across from him on the other side of the counter and leaned over her own tea. There were no answers in the bottom of the mug.

"How did this happen?" Sara thought out loud. "How do you go from loving someone to killing them?"

"People change. Our suspect and our victim are not the same people they were when they married."

"What's our next move?" She asked.

"Take a break. Clear our heads. Think about something other than the puzzle."

Sara stared at him darkly.

"This isn't a genius crossword. We're working within a limited time frame." She reprimanded.

Grissom was quiet. He chose his next words carefully.

"Sara…" He paused. "Assuming you eventually move on and find another job, which you will, you're certainly capable-"

"Move on? From what?" She interrupted. Grissom detected a note of pain in her words and realized how his words sounded.

"I mean, from the lab. I don't imagine you'll stay in Las Vegas forever."

Sara pursed her lips and looked away. He waited until he thought it was safe to continue.

"I hope you know that there are more superiors like Ecklie than there are like me."

"Is this my evaluation?"

"I'd call it a word of caution. Sara, you have to learn to let go sometimes."

"Gil-" A look of surprise flashed across his face and Sara bit her lip and winced. "You've been telling me for five years now to let go. I know I have to; but I choose not to. It's a conscious decision I make to not give up easily."

"No one would think any less of you."

Somehow Sara's hand had left her own mug and was wrapped around his. The heat from the tea seeped through his hands and into her own.

"I don't care about anyone else. I care about how I feel and I care about what you think. Other than that…" Sara flashed a cavalier grin, but didn't finish the sentence.

Grissom was silent.

"Don't confuse your job with your life. When you get older…" Grissom searched for the right words while Sara bit her lip to keep from cutting him off. "I hope you have something you can look back on other than 'I worked for twenty years straight.'"

Sara laughed lightly. It surprised them both.

"I know that, to a point. Like I said, I just ignore it."

"You can't."

"If this foster care thing pans out-" Sara stopped at the grimace on Grissom's face. "What?" She asked defensively.

"Do you think you're prepared to handle everything that a foster child encompasses, Sara? Are you ready to be a parent, for all intent and purpose, to another human being?"

"I've been there, Grissom, I can't think of anyone more aptly suited to this than a veteran of the system."

"I think it's admirable." He offered. The tone of his voice told Sara everything.

"You don't think I can do it." She stated.

"I think foster children, by nature, are very complicated, you know better than anyone the needs and demands of these kids. I just hope you've really thought this out."

"Do you think I'm complicated?"

"Yes, very much so." Grissom admitted.

Sara laughed again, but this time there was a darkness to it.

"You are not allowed to do this to me Grissom."

He blanched.

"You can't direct the course of my life and issue edicts on how I should or shouldn't live. You cannot tell me in one breath to make my life meaningful and undermine the way I choose to do it in the next. You can't manipulate me like that."

"I don't manipulate you." He defended.

"Oh, my God!" She said sarcastically. "Egypt has a new king of Denial."

Grissom's face clouded over briefly and he looked away. Sara rose from her stool and tossed the remainder of her tea down the drain and leaned against the counter. She waited for Grissom to respond. He wasn't getting away this time, she decided. She had him cornered, for once. She had a sense of grim determination to see this conversation through once and for all.

"Cleopatra."

Sara stared at him in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, what?" was all she could manage.

"Mark Anthony received a gift from Egypt of a fine woven rug. Inside, Cleopatra had concealed herself and managed to get past the Roman guard without notice and proceeded to seduce Mark Anthony; thus effectively altering the course of Egyptian history for another thirty years."

Grissom crouched down and ran his finger along the floorboards.

"When was the last time you swept?" Grissom asked, following her trail of vision.

"Last weekend! Lay off!" She defended.

"I didn't mean it like that. Remember what you said about the evidence void?" He prompted. Sara rubbed her eyes with exhaustion. He bolted upright and nearly hit Sara's chin with the top of his head; she was standing so close.

"They had a rug." She pronounced.

"Very good."

"He rolled her up with the intention to dump her, gets as far as the kitchen and changes his mind."

Grissom stared at her in admiration.

"If we find the rug, we can prove he lied." She realized how narrow the odds were of finding it. "It can't be that far away."

Sara paced the kitchen; fatigue giving way to adrenaline. She dashed quickly down the hall and behind the bedroom door to throw on a pair of pants and grabbed her jacket from the table.

When she reemerged, Grissom had had his coat on and was waiting by the door.

"There's a creek and a park three blocks from here, people throw paint cans, beer bottles and their general trash in the ravine, its disgusting."

"It's close enough and convenient."

"Exactly."

They both dashed out the front door, breaking into a jog. It was nearly six thirty and the sun was breaking up over the dessert. Already the heat of the day was taking over the cold of the night. By the time they got to the ravine, Sara was sweating and exhilarated. Grissom hauled a camera out of his tool kit, which Sara hadn't even thought to bring. Sure enough, the posh Persian rug stood out amongst the trash. Grissom handed Sara a pair of gloves and they hauled the waterlogged piece of evidence up onto the bank. Sara grinned from ear to ear.

"Told you."

Grissom barely looked up from his camera.

"Even IA can't dismiss this if it holds up as the Carpenters."

"I remember there was a photo of Helen in the bedroom looking down the hall. I bet the rug was in the photo." She wagered.

"It's still circumstantial at best, but it should be enough to at least delay his departure."

Grissom flipped open his phone; prepared to make the call, but handed it to Sara.

"You're the one with friends in high places." He chided.

Sara's grin stretched from ear to ear as she waited impatiently for someone to pick up.

"Hello? This is CSI Sidle calling, can I speak with someone in change of the Carpenter investigation? Thanks."

Grissom hung back watching the exchange with admiration. She turned at caught his gaze and smiled when he winked at her. She'd survived another evaluation day…


End file.
